


Grinches

by Theoroark



Series: Dark Room [16]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Gen, Grumpy Old Man Gabe, Implied Sexual Content, Jewish Sombra & Widowmaker, Team Talon (Overwatch), Team as Family, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 23:45:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17171738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theoroark/pseuds/Theoroark
Summary: Widowmaker and Sombra attempt to escape Christmas via tropical getaway. Also Gabe is there.





	Grinches

If Sombra was being exceptionally generous, she could label the trip as the first good thing that was Moira’s fault. But Sombra was rarely generous, and after what Moira had put her through that holiday season, she was even less inclined to be generous to her.

 

“All day,” Sombra told Widow. “She had Christmas carols playing the entire goddamn day.”

 

Widow hummed a sympathetic note and pet Sombra’s hair. Sombra was quite sure neither of them wanted this to be the kind of moaning Sombra was doing into her lap, but Sombra’s headache meant she needed an hour and a few glasses of wine before she could do anything more than complain.

 

“It’s almost a few more days until Christmas,” Widow said, her fingers massaging along Sombra’s neural implants. “Surely she’ll stop playing them then.”

 

Sombra rolled over and stared at Widow with wide eyes. “But they’re so BAD.”

 

“I know, Sombra.”

 

“When she played ‘Feliz Navidad’ she looked at me like I was going to sing along. When I reminded her I’m Jewish she just mumbled something about Christmas being secular now.”

 

“I can kill her for you, if you’d like,” Widow said placidly. Sombra sighed and said a quick prayer for a world where she could take Widow up on that offer.

 

“No,” she said instead. “Just… get me free from this stupid assignment. I don’t know why we keep the woman around, if Akande needs me to double check all her cybernetic work.”

 

One of Widow’s slender brows arched. “That’s all you’re doing? Checking over her work?” Sombra nodded and she tapped a finger too her lip. “Hmm.”

 

“What are you thinking, Spider?”

 

“Just something I need to look into,” Widow said. “But for now–” She handed Sombra her wine glass. “Just relax. This is a carol-free zone.” Sombra looked over to the window, where Widow’s menorah stood, all nine candles lit, grinned, and drank.

 

Widow was not there when Sombra woke up, as was their usual. Sombra was an insomniac, Widow was an early riser. All that meant was that Sombra could step into the kitchen and find a pot of coffee waiting for her, the ingredients for her morning omelette prepared on the counter, and the smoothie she had made last night for Widow gone from the fridge. She went through her morning routine with no disruption, until she arrived at Moira’s lab and the woman scowled at her as she entered. 

 

“You’re not working here today,” Moira informed her. Sombra froze in the doorway because, while she very much did not want to work here today, she also did not like Moira commanding her in any way. 

 

“And why aren’t I working here, exactly?” 

 

Moira snorted. “Because of your girlfriend,” she said. She stabbed a probe into the cybernetic arm she was working on, and Sombra tried to focus on Moira’s words and not the errors she was making, visible from several yards away. “She got the two of you vacation time. Right in the middle of this project. And I thought you two were Jewish.”

 

Sombra bit her lip, trying to keep herself from laughing. “Well. I thought it was a secular holiday?”

 

Moira looked up from the arm and glared at her. “Go.”

 

“I want you to have everything ready for my review when I get back,” Sombra said, and then she bolted before Moira could retaliate. She ran into Widow halfway down the hall, and wrapped her arms around her. Widow laughed and kissed the top of her head.

 

“Thank you,” Sombra said.

 

“Don’t thank me. Thank him.” Sombra looked up and Widow jerked her head to the side. Gabe stepped forward and raised a hand awkwardly. “Akande didn’t think we could spare you, but Gabe convinced him it was worth it.”

 

“Moira’s lab and my office share a wall,” Gabe told her. “I hear them all day. I get it.”

 

“Shit.” Sombra unwrapped an arm from Widow and held it out in the makings of a group hug. Gabe stared at it and did not step forward. “Thanks, man,” Sombra said anyway.

 

“No problem,” he said. “Enjoy Mancora.”

 

“God, Widow, a tropical vacation?” Widow grinned and ducked her head down, almost sheepish. Sombra leaned up an kissed her. “You’re really getting us a full anti-Christmas, huh?”

 

“Well,” Gabe said. “Some of us have an Italian Christmas to avoid. So.”

 

He shuffled past them. Sombra met Widow’s eyes. Sombra was not the kind of woman to make quick, frivolous attachments. She was not the kind to attach any more weight to attachments than they were due. She knew who Gabe was, knew what he was after, knew what they were worth to each other. She did not intend to give Gabriel an inch more than he was willing to give her. Sombra was rarely generous.

 

But still. It was Christmas. And they all knew how fucking awful Christmas was.

 

“Gabe,” Sombra said. “Do you want to come with us?”

 

-

 

The railing of Widow’s beachfront villa was wrapped in red and green bunting. Widow spun on her heels and stared down the Omnic butler carrying their bags. “I want every inch of Christmas in a 3 mile radius of this house gone,” she said.

 

“I think there are other people’s houses in a three mile radius,” Gabe pointed out. Widow narrowed her eyes.

 

“ _ Gone _ ,” she repeated. The Omnic butler nodded curtly, set their bags down by the door, and ripped the bunting off in a single clean sweep. Sombra assumed Gabriel was rolling his eyes, but she couldn’t tell for sure. He was hiding his bloodless, too often fleshless, face, behind a scarf pulled tight and dark sunglasses. He was wearing a hat, long sleeves and pants, and gloves. Sombra could not tell if a walking corpse would be less conspicuous. 

 

“Welcome to Mancora,” Widow said as she grabbed two bags and kicked the door open. She cast an appraising eye around the open-space living room/kitchen, but Gabe shambled past her without fear of any further decorations. He peered down the hallway. 

 

“Which room’s mine?”

 

Widow glanced down the hall. “Ah. Master bedroom’s the door at the end, any one but that.” Gabe nodded curtly and dragged his duffel down to the first door, and disappeared into the room. Sombra frowned and headed after him. She found him dropping the duffel on the ground, and flopping onto bed. Sombra cleared her throat.

 

“Uh. Hey, Widow and I were talking about doing scuba diving? You up for that?”

 

“No.” Gabe was beginning to strip layers of clothes, and more of his body was becoming visible. He looked mostly whole, Sombra thought. No visible muscles or bone, the red eyes were strange, but not completely incompatible with certain kinds of fashion. “You two go ahead.”

 

She took a step towards the bed. “Hey, man, it’ll be fun–”

 

Gabe tossed his last glove on the floor, kicked his shoes off, and wiggled down the bed and sank into the pillows. “No,” he said. “I’m fine.”

 

“Well. Okay. Let us know if you need anything, I guess.” She turned to leave, but Gabe called out to her.

 

“Sombra?”

 

She spun around. “Yeah?”

 

“Can you close the blinds, please?”

 

She walked over to the window and closed the blinds. The only light in the room was the sunlight that slipped between the slats and the dim glow of her cybernetics. She could just see that Gabe had his eyes closed. “Alright,” she said quietly. “See you later.” He did not respond as she closed the door behind her.

 

-

 

Sombra winced as Widow popped up to the surface, her toes skating along the water’s surface. “The water’s freezing,” she said. “How can you stand being under there for so long?”

 

Widow pulled the snorkel out of her mouth just to proclaim, “I don’t even feel the cold.” Sombra made a face and kicked water at her, and Widow ducked under, laughing. “Are you sure you don’t want to try?” she asked when she surfaced. “It’s beautiful down there.” 

 

“I dressed more for sunbathing, Spider.” Widow’s eyes flicked over Sombra and Sombra grinned. “Is it beautiful up here too?”

 

“Not quite,” Widow said. “You have something on your top.” Sombra rolled her eyes, folding her arms over her front-tie bikini top.

 

“Widow.”

 

“Just a little smudge, is all. I can get it out for you.”

 

“Widow, you just want to take off my top.”

 

“How dare you.” Widow’s snorkel was not fully obscuring her smile. “I was only trying to help.”

 

“It’s too bad you had to lie,” Sombra said, her hand casually falling on the tie. “Because if you had just asked nice, I probably would have just done it.”

 

Widow was silent for a moment then said, very quietly, “Please?” Sombra laughed.

 

“Well. How can I resist that?” She pulled the knot loose and shrugged off the top. Widow opened her mouth and Sombra held up a finger.

 

“If you say ‘ouh là là,’ I’m stranding you out here.”

 

Widow shut her mouth, grinned sheepishly, and pulled herself up the boat’s ladder to kiss Sombra.

 

-

 

“Gabe should have come with us,” Sombra said. Her eyes were fixed on the water ahead, carefully steering the boat to avoid harsh waves or rocks. But she saw Widow frown out of the corner of her eye.

 

“Why do you say that?”

 

“Because he was just lying around when I left him. And that’s all I did here. Well, not  _ all _ ,” she amended, when Widow raised an eyebrow. “But we could have done that when we got back to the house.” 

 

“It wouldn’t have been the same, though,” Widow said, and Sombra laughed. “And you know. Sunbathing wouldn’t do Gabe well.”

 

“Why do you–” Sombra caught herself and winced. The rot. Gabe’s body rotted more in the heat. He had brought along injections of stem cells, so he would not have to hunt, but the rot hurt him badly. Some days, when the pain was too much, he did not come into his office. He said he was working from home. Sombra knew he did not leave his bed. 

 

“Fuck,” Sombra said. She ran her fingers through her hair. Widow was watching her. “We shouldn’t have invited him.”

 

“He wouldn’t have accepted if he didn’t want to come,” Widow pointed out. “He was reluctant to come in the first place.”

 

“Yeah but– we brought him from Italy in the winter to a tropical beach, Widow. He’s got to be in pain, right?” Widow said nothing, her mouth a flat line and eyes fixed on the approaching beach. “Did he...”

 

Sombra trailed off and Widow finished her thought. “I don’t think Reyes would do something like this just to be polite.”

 

“You’re right.” They rode in silence for a few minutes, before Widow spoke again. 

 

“Sometimes I do things that are… irrational.” 

 

Sombra snorted. “Perish the thought.”

 

“I do,” Widow said, and her tone made Sombra sober up. “Especially when I had first… joined Talon. I would do foolish things. Drive too fast on cliffside roads. Get into fights on the streets in Paris.” She twisted her hands in her lap. “I drank too much,” she said softly. “I still do. You know that.”

 

Sombra swallowed around the lump in her throat. “Yeah,” she said.

 

“People do foolish things sometimes,” Widow said. Her expression was painfully neutral. “Because they care about something more than common sense.”

 

Sombra tapped her fingers against the wheel. They were approaching the dock. “What you’re talking about, Widow– that was doing something, though,” she pointed out. “Gabe’s not doing anything. He’s just lying around. So it’s different.”

 

“He followed us,” Widow said. “That’s something.”

 

Sombra killed the motor and the boat drifted towards the dock. Widow grabbed the rope and hopped off, and Sombra watched her tie the boat down. Widow held out a hand to Sombra, waiting expectantly.

 

“Okay,” Sombra said. She took it, and let Widow pull her up. “We’re going to have to drive in to town.”

 

“What? Why?”

 

“Because,” Sombra said. “We’re going to do something.”

 

-

 

The sun was down when Sombra and Widow arrived back at the villa. Gabe’s red eyes snapping open were the only light in the room when Sombra opened the door. Then they disappeared when Sombra flipped on the light switch, and he shielded himself against the glare. “What are you doing?” he croaked.

 

Widow held two bags aloft. “We have bad food and bad movies,” she announced.

 

“The bad movies, I’ll give you,” Sombra said. “But this is Chinese food on Christmas Eve. It’s physically incapable of being bad.”

 

“What–” Gabe rubbed his eyes. “How did you even find Chinese food here?”

 

“We drove for forty minutes,” Widow said. Sombra smiled cheerfully and began pulling cartons out of the bag. 

 

“So what we’re saying is, we’re all set for the rest of the night.”

 

Gabe sat up slowly, wincing as he straightened his back. “You don’t have to do this,” he said. “You two can go off on your own.”

 

“We already had sex today,” Widow informed him. Gabe closed his eyes again and Sombra put a hand on her shoulder.

 

“It’s okay, Gabe” she said. “We want to spend time with you. Spirit of the thing, and all.”

 

“Spirit of the thing,” Gabe repeated. “So what? You love Christmas now, too?” Sombra snorted.

 

“Not Christmas spirit, dummy. Jew on Christmas Spirit.” She handed him a carton of fried rice, and he held it loosely in his lap. “Everyone else is out doing some dumb shit you don’t care about, so you find the people you do care about, and you do dumb shit with them.”

 

“Oh,” Gabe said quietly. He stared down at the carton. Widow, cross legged on the floor, noodles hanging out of her mouth, looked between the two of them.

 

“Are we watching your Room or not?”

 

“Oh my God,” Gabe pulled himself towards the edge of the bed, and Sombra grinned and pulled up her video player. “We’re watching The Room?”

 

“Of course,” Sombra said. “It’s amazing.”

 

Widow nudged her. “You told me it was terrible.”

 

Sombra kissed her and took the container of noodles from her. “It’s both,” she said, readying a bite with her chopsticks. “Terrible things can be amazing, if you find the right people to make fun of them with.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy no-longer-having-to-pretend-Christmas-music-is-decent to all my non-Christians living in the West out there, we made it another year.
> 
> I'm @tacticalgrandma on twitter/tumblr if you want to talk to me there!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and any comments/kudos would me the world to me <3


End file.
